In one of my classes, we read a short essay called "Mirages" by Annie Dillard. To demonstrate that what we see isn't always what's real, our professor had us roll up a piece of paper and use it as a spyglass. If we put it up to one eye and held it against a hand held in front of our face, with both eyes open, it created the effect of a hole in our pinky finger.
We were told to write about the differences between sensation and perception. I, of course, wrote a poem. (And yes, I am still obsessing about being engaged.)
I can feel the jarring up
down of earth — my eyes
leading my body
over sand dunes.
My skin is soaked by pages —
I have a hole in my finger,
just under my nail.
Thank goodness
I am not wearing my ring.
It, too, might disappear,
might smell like notebook
instead of metal,
like poetry
instead of dreamlike reality.
sunrise
StableDiffusion
bonfire friends
StableDiffusion
sadness
StableDiffusion
purple skies
StableDiffusion
true love
StableDiffusion
My Cheerleader
StableDiffusion
womans transformation to happiness and love
StableDiffusion
future life together of adventures
StableDiffusion
